Sometimes a person supposes,
When asked to describe how things are,
That talking of rainbows and roses
Will hide what might startle or jar.
By painting a picture so sunny,
Believing you’ll fool those who asked,
What happens, I’d bet even money,
Is that some will know truth has been masked.
For lies rarely stay nicely hidden,
Since facts often end up revealed,
Exposing the one who, unbidden,
Learns guile’s a bad weapon to wield.
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